The Unknown Past of the Sorrowful Sorcerer
by SpaXe
Summary: A man was found one day in the wilderness, seriously injured and unconscious. There seemed to be some mystery about him, yet the man cannot grasp his very own memory. He had lost them, for some unknown reasons. This is the tale of Rach Darastrix.


Chapter One: The Found

_"Help! We need more-" The voice disappeared. Thundering earthquakes, like a child playing with his new toys, roamed and rolled the hills and plains, so far that one in the center of the storm could not see tranquility nor safety within sight. It was unusual for the people - at least natural disasters were never this horrible before. Loud sounds of rocks falling from the mountain top covered the cries of the innocent, crushing over the carts driven by horses; one smashed into pieces of flesh and blood with wooden spikes spinning all over the place. The children fled with fear, and the men and women ran with tears. There was no where else to go except praying and running, hoping for the best of their luck - an unlucky one._

_Perhaps their true luck finally came, and the chaos only lasted for a few minutes - yet it was more than a monster. Its strength broke the mountains into plains, and forced the plains into mountains, or so it seemed. Survived ones started to look for their relatives and friends, their hope reseeded. Some cried out loud for no one to hear; some walked around aimlessly; some are too tired to do anything more. It was so sudden and shocking that one hardly has the will to talk about the harm and the lost._

_Few families reunited. Some houses that weren't badly damaged were once again lit brightly under the blood-dark sky without stars. Friends formed groups in circles chatting, their voices weak and shaken. Merchants counted the broken pieces and calculated their economical loss, ordering servants to reset the tents and shop banners. Sadness was the only thing people had connection together, and everyone felt it without a word spoken._

_Yet they weren't truly lucky. The ground shook aonce again, and this time it was a crushing blow to the residents, ambushing them with extreme surprise. They had no time to flee this time, as they quickly realized - a sudden flaming meteor struck the center of the town. Its huge force split the soils and rocks apart, and the flame consumed everything else. The stunning scene was like a large and strong ship sailed into a swirl in a middle of the sea, if one were to view the scene from afar. Then - not after too long of the strike - the sudden storm ceased. The whirlwind gave way. The despaired cries stopped._

_It was peaceful again. A peace with quietness. A peace with moonlight, its silver glow blended into the blood-red grassland. A peace with no more danger. A peace with no lives._

"Your goodness sir, please help this injured young man!" cried an old crippled man, his bone-skinned hands shaking, his voice trembled. Another man, upon hearing the cry, turned and ran near to the one injured, who was lying on the plain and rich-green grassland. The soft wind caressed this serious-damaged man's blood-textured face, brushing his slightly dark brown hair in random directions. If the sun has shone and reflected the hair color into one's eyes, one would've thought he caught a blurred glance of metallic copper color.

"How is. . . he doing?" The voice sounded tired, for the man ran with almost all his strength to help. "What. . ." He stopped and coughed a bit, took a deep breath, then continued, "What happened?"

"Good sir, I sadly do not know the truth," said the old man, his eyes filled with fear. "I thought I saw this young man fell from the sky - so to speak - he suddenly appeared in my old eyes when I blinked!" The old man turned to the injured, and requested heartily, "Please help me carry this young man to the nearest town, if you may spare a few hours helping my old bones. I cannot leave this poor and unfortunate man to die in such a wilderness where no one would found anything but his dry bones left by animals. Please! Here, take his right hand and move his heavy body with me."

The helper agreed without a word and took up the injured man's hand, supporting part of his body. The two hurried as much as possible without further damaging the poor young man, and headed to the central High Kingdom. It took about three hours for them to send the man to a room where he could rest with a good care. The long time seemed frozen and then fast-forwarded - the injured man had been taken care of with bandages and herb medicines, fallen in deep slumber.

The next day, when the injured man woke up - it was around midday - with his mind blurred and sight unfocused. The gentle old lady, who took him into her house and spaced out her bed for him, walked in with a wooden plate. She slowly put it down on the tablet near the bed, for the patient to see. The sunlight gleamed in radiance through the window shade, creating a stripe-like texture on the mashed potato and the hot chicken soup. The room was filled with warmth and welcome.

"I don't know where you came from, young man," said the old lady, her gentle voice softly hitting the bell of the injured man's heart. "But you need some rest, still. You don't seem to be in danger anymore, I can assure you of that; be happy now," seeing the man's grim face, the old lady said as she stood up slowly. "And grant you heart a new hope, young man. Rest well in quietness." She nodded slightly with a smile, then slowly headed out of the room, but a weak voice, almost like a whisper, halted her.

"Wait. . ., where. . . ?" the man tried to speak, but his empty voice failed him and faded away. He started to cough.

"You are safe, young man," answered the old lady. "But you still need some rest. Your mind can wait. Your body cannot." She turned around and slowly headed out. It was so peaceful and quiet, that the bright reflection of the radiant sunlight glowed through the translucent tear on the man's grim face.

"Dreams. . ." whispered the man. "Again. . ."


End file.
